


The One Thing on Which We Agree

by imagymnasia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Sorry to disappoint, it's really just Lorenz and Hubert sassing each other, it's really just the two of them fighting on Ferdie's behalf, no real spoilers though, so Ferdinand is not actually in this, that is a lie it is sad and I blame Hubie, wow this got angsty real fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagymnasia/pseuds/imagymnasia
Summary: When Lorenz finds out who Ferdinand's new beau is, he takes it upon himself to confront the man. Hubert is far from happy about it.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 29
Kudos: 372
Collections: Sun & Moon 《Ferdibert》





	The One Thing on Which We Agree

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quickie inspired by [Polochan's art](https://twitter.com/Pillow_boi/status/1191447455465906176) and the ensuing conversation. I'm supposed to be writing something else entirely but I couldn't get this out of my head.
> 
> You're welcome. (I'm so sorry.)

It was early afternoon, just after lunch in fact, and Hubert was taking his usual post-meal stroll. It was less a stroll and more a circuit of the now-familiar monastery grounds; a chance for Marquis Vestra to observe the state of affairs here at their home base and, sometimes, put out some metaphorical fires before they had a chance to start. That, and a little light exercise did help with digestion.

It was unfortunate, then, that he found himself accosted by none other than Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, who stepped from the shadows of the columns in an act of showmanship that left Hubert nonetheless impressed, even if the interruption was a nuisance. If the noble’s stormy expression was any indication, this would be an especially unpleasant conversation.

“Vestra. A _word_.”

Sometimes, Hubert hated being right.

He sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. It would only incite Lorenz to further badgering, like taunting a charging bull. “I don’t have time to suffer your nonsense, Lorenz,” he said, taking small pleasure in the way the tips of Lorenz’s ears turned red with anger.

“You will suffer this,” Lorenz hissed, striding forward. His finger was pointed directly at Hubert’s chest.

“Who’s trampled the rose garden this time?” Hubert asked, his voice reflecting the fatigue he already felt for this conversation. Lorenz spluttered for a moment (the man was far too easy to fluster) before pressing his too-thin lips into a flat line.

“Rose g-- This is no trivial matter, Hubert!”

“Then do get to the point,” he drawled, “I’m quite busy.”

“As am I, I assure you,” Lorenz countered. Still, he squared his shoulders and straightened his already-perfect posture (it really was a pity the man was of a height with himself, Hubert lamented; it was so much easier to intimidate someone if they were smaller). “I would not bother if it were not of the utmost importance. But very well, I will get to the heart of the matter: I’ve just heard, from the man himself, that you are in a relationship with Ferdinand.”

Whatever Hubert had been expecting from the purple buffoon, that had not been it.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me!” Lorenz snarled. “I’ve just been having tea with him, and he has confided in me that the two of you are—that you are—an item.”

Hubert felt the corner of his mouth twitching, but he pushed away the urge to smile. “Aah. Is that it?” He knew that Ferdinand frequently entertained Lorenz’s company, but he had greatly underestimated the closeness of their relationship if Lorenz was this upset over it. “And you object, I take it?”

“Most heartily!” The vehemence should not have surprised Hubert as much as it did. He was not often surprised, and he found he did not like it.

It was with great pleasure, then, that he loomed into Lorenz’s space and donned his most self-satisfied smile. “Ferdinand is a big boy,” he said softly. “He can look after himself.”

“Ferdinand is… Ferdinand,” Lorenz said delicately. “You know how he is, Hubert. He gets an idea into his head and no man can dissuade him. He is like a boarhound with the scent of his prey on the wind; he will not stop until he has his prize, even if that means being gored by the tusks.”

Hubert crossed his arms, amused. “I thought Dimitri was the wild boar in this tale.”

“Do not try and wriggle out of this with pedantry!”

Lorenz was shaking his finger at him again, a knife of flesh and blood still sheathed, but no less dangerous. The heir of Gloucester was a blowhard most days, but he had his uses; and, if Hubert lost their foothold in the Alliance because he had lost favor with the Count’s son, especially over a personal squabble, Hubert would never forgive himself. He could not risk endangering Lady Edelgard’s campaign.

Even if the idea of rubbing Lorenz’s face in the dirt was becoming overwhelmingly appealing.

“I have tried to dissuade him,” Lorenz continued, “but he will not hear a word of it! You are not a bad man, Hubert—” _that_ was surprising, especially coming from Lorenz, who had never said a kind word about him _ever_—“but I am afraid you are too single-minded to give Ferdinand the sort of attention he deserves. That he _needs_.” He leveled his gaze at Hubert, and for the first time in his life it was _Hubert_ who felt unnerved.

“You serve Edelgard above all else. It is a quality I envy, actually. That level of devotion is admirable, but such a life of dedication is not easily shared. What should happen if Ferdinand and Edelgard were, goddess forbid, ever at odds? If something were to happen, and you had to choose?”

Hubert, who had been asking himself the very same question, still did not have an answer. Lorenz seemed to take it as such, anyway.

“You are going to hurt him, Hubert,” he said, his voice soft and his gaze pitying. It made Hubert sick. “And if you hurt him, I will never forgive you.”

“Then keep trying.”

The evenness in his own voice startled Hubert, but it was Lorenz who looked taken aback.

“What?”

“Keep trying,” and this time Hubert smiled. Smiled, because falling into routine and the role he had made for himself was easier than giving in to the growing ache in his chest. “Dissuade him. Convince him.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Tell him!” Hubert snapped. He felt his control fraying at the edges. He knew, damn it—he knew that he was no good for Ferdinand. He had been through this a thousand times, had fed Ferdinand the same lines, had tried to push him away countless times. If Ferdinand was the sunshine, Hubert was the evening’s deepest shadow; if Ferdinand were pure spring water, Hubert was the sludge that tainted it, made it murky and dank and poisonous.

How dare Lorenz speak as if he had any idea what had transpired between them; as if Hubert did not already know each of his innumerable sins and how disqualified he was to deserve any sort of affection.

“Tell him I am the worst sort of man—_less_ than a man! Tell him what a snake I am! Tell him I murder children, and poison widows and orphans. Whatever it takes!” He was looming over Lorenz now, the other man drawn back on himself in wide-eyed fear. Hubert’s lip curled in a snarl. “If you are the sort of man you claim to be, protect him. Even if it’s from himself.”

Hubert drew back, tugging his coat back into place and smoothing his features into his usual mask of unflappable smugness. “Maybe you will succeed where I have failed.”

He watched as those words penetrated Lorenz’s mind. Confusion gave way to the shock of realization, and realization morphed into remorse.

“H-Hubert, I—”

“I need to get back to work,” said Hubert, already turning away. He had no time for pity. “Enjoy your afternoon.”

And Hubert left Lorenz gaping after him, heading for the audience chamber where he had promised to meet Edelgard and letting himself pretend that he wasn’t just running away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, you can find me on Twitter as @imagymnasia, or hit up my personal at @thecourtface (it's mostly just work rants and fanart RTs, come join me and yell into the void). 
> 
> Cheers!


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